The Power Within
by Alun Aleriksson
Summary: AU about 75 years in the future. M for language, violence, and feminine wiles. This isn't the story of how I got my powers. No one knows that. This is the story of how I found them, and the people I met along the way. On hiatus till I can get a little done with my other stories.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I own the story, the whole story and nothing but the story.

Prologue

Isabella had never run for her life before. It was definitely not as glamorous as the movies portrayed it. Her chest ached, her throat burned, and her eyes stung from the wind. But she kept going. She had to. She didn't know the men that had broken into her house, but she sure wasn't going to stick around for introductions.

The streets and alleys snaked in front of her randomly, which suited her. She didn't care where she went, as long as it was away from those men and whatever they were doing.

She found a dumpster to hide behind and took a few deep breaths. In the aftermath of adrenaline-fueled sprinting and danger evasion, questions overtook her thought process. Who were those men? What did they want with her? What had they done to her mother? She rested her head against the cool metal and pondered these. She was grateful for the break, but figured she should keep moving…


	2. A Long Night

Disclaimer- I don't have any claim to the rights of Phineas and Ferb or any associated logos.

Ch. 1 – A Long Night

Vivian Garcia-Shapiro was reading peacefully after having dinner with her daughter. Her life was perfect; she had recently moved to the city with Isabella to be closer to her office building, she had divorced that horrible man she thought she had been in love with, and she and her Isabella were both happy to change their lives and move on. Unfortunately, the scars on her stomach and arms would never move on. She didn't mind, though; they were a reminder of her mistakes. She was determined not to let the past repeat itself, to her or her daughter.

Isabella herself was in her bunk listening to her music and shaking her head to the beat. With her twentieth birthday coming up in two weeks, she was nearing the end of her required legal guardianship in parental custody. She loved her mother, of course, but she had plans for her life, too. She was glad her mother had supported her so far, not like that rat-bastard she had the misfortune of calling her father.

Three years ago, he had started making rude sexual comments toward her. She brushed them off, attributing them to the drunkenness. But it had only gotten worse. He began asking her for favors. When she refused, he hit her. Isabella had been shocked, but not necessarily surprised at his behavior. She had immediately gone to her mother, who confronted him. He agreed to stop.

For about six months, Isabella was careful around him. More than once, she had caught him staring at her. She ignored him the best she could, and did her best not to provoke him.

About a year ago, he had snapped, demanding that she sleep with him, or he would kill her with the knife he had just picked up. She screamed loud enough for her mother to hear, and tried not to remember the rest. She had had to knock her father out with a vase before calling for help for her mother. Her arms and stomach were bleeding freely, but she made it to the hospital before passing out.

But all that was behind them now. Isabella had a warm, cozy bed and a roof over her for protection. She had a new life, and was ready to face the future.

Then the mysterious men showed up at their door and turned the world around.

The banging on the door was loud enough to penetrate Isabella's headphones and startle her into looking around. Her mother had answered the door to reveal five men in combat uniform, with guns to match.

"Where is your daughter?" The first one asked forcefully.

Vivian was not intimidated. "Why do you need to know?"

Isabella pressed her back to the wall and stayed hidden. She didn't like where this was going.

The leader was speaking again. "The more you cooperate with us ma'am, the less we have to use force."

"What do you want with my daughter?" Vivian did not budge from the doorway.

"It's not your business, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro."

"If it's my daughter, then yes, it is my business!"

The leader turned to his men. "Search the house."

Isabella's eyes widened, and she scrambled to her window as quietly as she could. She had a feeling she did not want to be found by these men. The window slid open with a small hiss at her touch, and she climbed out even as her mother protested the intrusion. Using the supply pipe next to the building, she slid down the two stories to the street like she had so many times before, to sneak out to some party or other her mother had forbidden.

She landed just as the men got to her window and looked down. Isabella shrunk her figure into the shadows as much as she could, to no avail.

"She's outside!" the men vanished from her window, and she heard a door slam.

Isabella took off into the night.

-XXX-

Isabella moved away from the dumpster. She didn't know which way to go, so she picked a direction and started walking. She heard sirens coming from the direction of where she knew her house was, and hoped her mother was okay. She couldn't go back though; the men made sure of that. Isabella shivered and continued her trek.

She ended up in a part of town that didn't look familiar. Men jeered at her, prostitutes walked by and gave her looks of disdain. Isabella hid her face in her long hair and strode through quickly.

She heard shouts behind her and turned around to see a group of men in a uniform she recognized barreling towards her.

'The chase is back on,' she thought, and picked up her pace.

She wove through the startled denizens of the alley, using the sparse crowd for as much cover as she could. She turned a corner to the side of a bar and found a ten-foot wall blocking her path. She grinned to herself; 'Perfect.' She planted a foot on the wall at her waist height and climbed up to the top in less than a second, then dropped down the other side and continued running.

-XXX-

Back at the Garcia-Shapiro residence, the head soldier had rejoined with reinforcements to interrogate Vivian as to where her daughter might be. Vivian remained stubbornly silent despite efforts to loosen her tongue. She had had experience with pain, though. She could take the hits the soldiers dealt easier than most women her age.

"Tell us where she is, bitch!" the squad leader was getting frustrated.

Vivian just smirked. "Couldn't catch her?"

Her wit was rewarded with a harsh smack across her face.

"Where did she go?"

Vivian glared up at him from her "bound-to-a-chair" position. "You drove her from her home. She has nowhere else to go."

-XXX-

Isabella didn't know where to go. She didn't have any relatives living nearby, and she couldn't involve any of her friends without putting them in danger. She wandered the streets, but she knew she couldn't run forever. Already she was tired and cold. She hadn't grabbed a jacket in her escape, so she was dressed in her thin pajamas and flimsy socks. Not quite optimum fleeing garb.

As uncomfortable as she was, she was sure the men chasing after her would make her even more so. Those were not police uniforms, so she couldn't assume they would abide by legal methods of apprehension. Judging by the size of their firearms, they may not intend to apprehend her at all. Now there was a thought to make Isabella shudder.

-XXX-

Vivian's condition improved only slightly when a large, broad man with a shaved head wearing a crisp suit and tie arrived at her house.

"What are you doing?" He demanded. "Untie this poor woman, and get her some water to drink."

The squad leader tried to argue his case. "With all due respect, sir, she-"

"She what? Attacked you on sight? Attempted to flee? Do tell me, Sergeant, what exactly she did."

"She… won't cooperate." The sergeant admitted lamely.

"Well, the bonds and beatings probably didn't help her mood. Untie her, and get her some water. Now."

"Right away, sir."

The ropes holding Vivian's hands and arms were cut, and a bottle of water was placed before her on her kitchen table. She did not move from her seat, nor did she reach for the water. The new "sir" pulled up a chair and sat calmly opposite her, placing his arms on the table and touching his fingertips together in front of him.

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro.' He said. His voice was not deep or intimidating, but inviting and encouraging. 'I know how you must feel about us. We're terrible people who want to hurt you and your daughter, right? That's not the truth, and I sincerely apologize for Sgt. Hankoff's actions. Is there anything we can get for you? Anything we can do?"

"You can bring my daughter back," Vivian replied coldly.

The man nodded slightly. "Yes, well, apparently my men can't. We were hoping you would know where she might hide?"

"Nowhere. She has nowhere else to go." Vivian repeated.

"So she's on the streets, on foot," he turned to the few others standing around the room. "And we still have no reports of where she is?"

The men assembled shuffled nervously. Sergeant Hankoff answered. "No, sir."

"Pathetic," He turned back to Vivian "Your daughter must be quite the athlete."

"Her name is Isabella." Vivian said.

"Yes, Isabella." The man agreed. "Tell me, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro, do you have any questions we may be able to answer for you?"

"You can tell me who in blazes you are,"

"Certainly. My name is Commander Richard Malcolm, and I represent a government-funded branch dedicated to protecting these United States from… extraordinary threats."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm sorry, most of that information is classified," Commander Malcolm responded.

"So un-classify it."

"I can't do that."

"Fine. What does Isabella have to do with this?"

The commander chose his next words very carefully. "We believe Isabella, your daughter, may be a danger to herself and others around her,"

"What on earth do you mean?" Vivian was indignant. "My Isabella, a danger?"

"Please don't be upset, ma'am," Malcolm said gently. "I said we believe, not that we know."

"How could she be a danger?"

"I'm not in a position to disclose that information. I can tell you that if she does not exhibit symptoms, no harm will come to her."

"Symptoms? What symptoms?" Vivian was now confused.

"I should be asking you. Have you noticed any behaviors that seemed… out of the ordinary to you?"

"She's a teenage girl. Normal is not on her list of behaviors."

"Any strange occurrences that could be linked to her?"

"Not that I know of, no." Vivian shook her head. "What kind of danger could Isabella possibly be?"

"We don't know yet, ma'am,"

-XXX-

Isabella sat shivering in an alley, blowing on her hands in an attempt to keep some warmth in her body. She didn't know what else to do; her initial surge of energy had long since died down, so here she was, huddled next to a brick wall, with no money, no ID, no one to help her and an army after her. She wouldn't make it through the night if this kept up.

She heard a buzzing overhead and looked up to see a helicopter with a floodlight scanning the streets.

"A helicopter? Really?" Isabella was flattered and frightened at the same time. Whoever these people were, they meant business. She struggled to her feet just in time to be illuminated by the floodlight. In seconds soldiers swarmed towards her.

Isabella ran the other way but was soon blocked and grabbed by another man.

"Get off me get off me get OFF ME!"

Suddenly Isabella's hands glowed brightly, and a bolt of light struck her captor in the chest. He reeled backward, and Isabella took the unexpected opportunity to run.

She spotted a fire escape to her right and figured it was her best bet. Even if she ran into the helicopter, the buildings in the city were close enough to each other that she thought she could keep running if she had to.

With a quick jump and subsequent swing, Isabella was climbing metal stairs as fast as she could. The men on the ground opened fire from their rifles, and bullets clanged around her as she went.

It didn't take long for the men to follow her, but Isabella already had a three-story height advantage by the time the first soldier got to the fire escape. She reached the roof in record time, to find herself face to face with the search helicopter.


	3. The Fugitives

Disclaimer- My property, Phineas and Ferb is not.

Ch. 2 – The Fugitives

Isabella was trapped. In front of her, a helicopter blocked her path. Behind her, a squadron of soldiers would join her on the roof any minute with guns blazing. For the second time in her life, Isabella Garcia-Shapiro feared she was going to die.

As soon as the thought entered her mind that she was done for, a hovercraft appeared seemingly out of nowhere on top of the helicopter and began to descend, forcing the helicopter away from the building. A door opened on the side and the silhouette of a tall, lanky man held out a hand to Isabella.

Isabella hesitated at first, then the figure called out to her.

"Hey," it said. "You can take your chances with me or you can take your chances with them."

Isabella turned around to see the first of the soldiers reaching the top of the fire escape and climbing onto the roof. She decided a hovercraft was safer than automatic weapons and sprinted toward the hovercraft. She was hauled through the door just as the squad leader screamed, "Fire!"

-XXX-

Commander Malcolm had just closed a call from his men.

"Ms. Garcia-Shapiro, it appears your daughter has shown dangerous symptoms that-"

"What does that mean? What symptoms? Tell me, dammit!" Vivian interrupted her guard.

"I don't have an accurate description, my men were not specific, but it seems she incapacitated one of them with what looked like light."

Vivian was not amused. "What kind of bullshit are you trying to sell me? Inca-what-ed with light?"

"That's what they said, ma'am. Your daughter appears to be a danger to those around her."

"She is not a danger!" Vivian insisted. "She's scared; you came after a defenseless girl with firearms and expected her to just go along with you?"

"That does not negate the fact that she apparently has certain abilities-"

"What, fighting with light?"

Commander Malcolm did not appreciate the sarcasm. "I admit I haven't seen an ability like this before, but that doesn't make it any less real. Isabella has proven she must be dealt with."

"Dealt with? What are you going to do?"

"That will depend on Isabella's actions. If she can be sedated and captured that would be optimal. However, once a target demonstrates abilities and resists capture, lethal force is authorized."

"Lethal? You're going to kill her?" Vivian said, horrified.

"Only if she does not cooperate."

"What, you think she'll come running like your trained mutt? After all you've done tonight?"

"That is her choice, and my men have their orders."

"You can't! You can't just-"

This time Vivian was cut short by the buzz of the commander's communicator. "Sir? Sir?"

Malcolm put the device to his ear. "Go ahead." He listened for a minute, then angrily shut it off and rubbed his head. "Looks like you're in luck, Ms. Garcia-Shapiro. She got away."

-XXX-

Isabella fell on the cold metal just inside the sliding door of the hovercraft and immediately started screaming in pain. Multiple bullet holes had torn through her lower body and legs. People were talking above her, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. Then she felt a sting in her shoulder and fell asleep.

She woke up naked in a white bed with a small, mousy girl with glasses hovering over her.

"Oh, good; you're awake. How do you feel?"

It took a second for Isabella to start to feel her legs, and another second to find her voice. "Fine," she whispered.

The girl laughed. "Not many people get shot six times with .45 caliber bullets and say _that_ only three hours later. Even with my skills, you sure are a fast healer."

Just then the infirmary doors hissed open, and a man walked in. "How is she, Gretchen?"

"Ask her yourself," the girl replied.

The man turned towards Isabella, and she got a good look at him. He had bright red hair, hard blue eyes, and a long, pointed nose. The thing she noticed most, though, was the large black tattoo that adorned the left side of his face. It depicted a fanged mouth that shadowed his, slits for eyes, and a spiked neck that followed his own. Isabella couldn't help to look at it, and the man noticed her gaze.

"Like it?" He asked. "Goes all the way down my arm, too." he lifted his sleeve to reveal the dragon's claw that ended on his left hand. "Show her yours, Gretchen."

Gretchen turned her left side to Isabella, and she noticed a red cross bordering her eye, accompanied by an intertwined pair of snakes down her arm.

"Wha- what are they?" Isabella gasped, slowly regaining the capability of speech.

"Just tattoos," the man answered. "Almost labels, really. All of ours are different."

"Ours?"

"You can meet the others when you feel stronger, but for now, I'm Phineas and this is our healer, Gretchen." The mousy girl gave a small bow and smiled. "What's your name?"

Isabella swallowed. "Isabella,"

"Well, Isabella, it looks like you've started your own tattoo."

Isabella looked at her own hand and recoiled. There, on her fingers, an intricate design of pink spirals had appeared. "Wha- buh, huh?" She spluttered.

"Calm down, its not gonna hurt you." Phineas reassured. "It just means your powers have manifested."

Isabella stared at him for a moment. "You mean I have powers?"

"Don't you?"

Isabella remembered what happened earlier that night. "That light…"

-XXX-

Vivian decided this was a good time to be worried sick. The commander and his men had left her home, at least, but hadn't told her any more about where her daughter might be or what had happened. She could only hope her Isabella wasn't dead or worse…

-XXX-

"I must say, I'm impressed with your healing progress." Phineas was now sitting at the foot of Isabella's bed. "Three hours of sleep and you're fully conscious after what you went through. Aren't you at all tired?"

Isabella thought about that. "I don't feel tired," she said.

"Hmm. Well, can you walk?"

Gretchen intervened. "Phineas, she is not standing up with you here until I get her measured and fitted for some clothes."

Phineas' blush matched his hair. "Right. Sorry. Forgot."

Isabella giggled. Phineas was cute, she thought. Especially when he was flustered.

"So do you want to do that now?" Gretchen asked Isabella.

"May as well."

Phineas got up to leave. "When you feel up to it, you can meet me on the bridge. I'll give you a tour."

-XXX-

After being measured for a loose jumpsuit that looked like the one Gretchen was wearing and matching shoes, Isabella performed a physical test and found her legs had virtually completely healed. She thanked Gretchen and asked for directions to the bridge.

"Go straight out of here and it's right up the staircase,"

The inside of the hovercraft was decorated with slanted metal and wires. Isabella made her way down the hallway to a central spiral staircase and climbed up.

Three hundred sixty degrees later she emerged on a metal platform with a railing that looked out of a curved window. On a slightly lower level, a control box housing a steering wheel and throttle controls, along with other unidentifiable screens, stretched in an arc facing the window.

Phineas was holding the rail and looking out the window. A large man with very short hair and an under bite stood slightly behind him with his arms crossed and noticed her arrival.

"So you're the new meat, huh?" He said in a raspy voice.

Phineas turned in response to his companion's voice and greeted her. "Isabella! Glad you're up and about. This is Buford, he's-"

"The strongest guy you're ever gonna see." Buford completed without uncrossing his arms.

"The least modest of our group." Phineas amended.

"Modest ain't in the job description, pointy."

Phineas moved to the side to let Isabella see out the front window. They seemed to be cruising away from the city. In front of them, a tall, well-built, green-haired boy manned the controls by himself.

Isabella had dozens of questions swarming her head. The first of which sprang to her lips. "What is this ship?"

Phineas turned and beckoned. "Come on. I'll show you."

Phineas led her down the hovercraft's various corridors, talking as he went. "Ferb and I- he's the other guy you saw on the bridge- built this years ago when the group that chased after you learned we had 'demonstrated symptoms' and came after us. So we left home to hide out and started planning what to do next. About two months passed before we began collecting raw materials for the project. This is the kitchen."

"How old were you?" Isabella cut in as Phineas paused.

"Our abilities showed up around the same time; maybe ten years old. We're brothers, so we were living together when it happened." He stopped there and leaned against the side of the ship, apparently thinking about what to say next. "Ferb started talking about the green numbers he was seeing. Didn't make any sense at the time of course. Few days later we notice this design on his hand. Kind of like yours, but simpler. Then I started coughing up smoke. Scared my parents shitless with that. A big bald man came to our house and asked about what we were doing, what we thought was happening. He said he'd explain everything, we just had to follow him."

Isabella was amazed. Ten years old? That meant he had had his powers for close to half of his life, if he was her age. She told him so, and he smiled.

"Almost exactly half, actually. I turned twenty just a few weeks ago."

"Bet you were glad to get out of your parent's house, huh?"

Phineas' smile faded, and he did not answer.

-XXX-

Morning had come to the city and Vivian had not slept at all. As sunlight pierced the windows of her apartment, she picked her head off of her table and glanced around the empty space. It looked just like it always did; tidy with signs of a young, independent woman. She missed Isabella already. She had attempted to call her, and found her communicator in her bunk, left behind in her rush to get away.

So Vivian spent her night at the kitchen table, hoping her daughter might try to contact her or come back. The doorbell didn't ring, and there were no incoming transmissions to any of the house communicators. Vivian had given up. She knew searching for her daughter wasn't going to help: she was dead or she had gotten away; Isabella wouldn't have let herself be captured.

Vivian got up to make coffee to try to distract herself. It didn't work.

-XXX-

Phineas ended the tour showing Isabella where she could sleep. She would be sharing a room with Gretchen, which she didn't mind at all. She had met Ferb and Katie, the pilot and mechanic, in addition to Phineas and Buford.

Phineas was her favorite so far. Ferb hadn't said a word, but nodded when appropriate and held up his hand for greetings and farewell. Katie was the opposite: perky and talkative, with an intense interest in her work. Her tattoo reflected her job; a dark blue gear enclosed most of her eye, and her arm was comprised of pistons and wires, as if her flesh had somehow fused with a machine. Ferb's tattoo looked like a reticule around his eye, combined with curvy numbers and strange symbols down his arm. All of their tattoos were on the left side of their bodies.

Isabella inquired about the meaning of the left side, but no one could give her a definite answer. Nobody knew how or why they showed up; they just did.

Isabella accepted that for the time being.

-XXX-

The hovercraft continued is journey away from Isabella's home. She watched the sunrise from the bridge and thought about her mother, and what she must be going through. She asked Phineas if she could go see her.

"Way too dangerous. You can call her, if you like, just watch your time. They like to tap our communicators."

Isabella figured that was the second best thing she could do, and accepted.

Her mother picked up instantly.

"_What have you done to my daughter, you bastards? When I find you-"_

"Mom, it's me; it's Isabella."

The voice on the other end stopped for a moment before resuming. "_Isa? Where are you? Are you hurt?"_

"No, mom, I'm fine, for now. I don't have much time; I just called you so you knew I wasn't dead." Isabella wished she could alleviate some of the stress she heard in her mother's voice.

"_Oh, thank you dear, but where are you?"_

"I don't know, mom," Isabella said hurriedly. "Listen, I don't have much time. I only called to let you know-"

"_Okay, honey, I understand. Just be safe. I love you."_

"Love you, too, mom." Isabella said, and then ended the transmission.

Phineas was immediately on the alert. "Ferb! How we doing?" He received in answer a thumbs up, which seemed to satisfy him.

Isabella knew he was being cautious, and understood the necessity, but still one question persisted: who were they running from?


End file.
